Office Shenanigans
by INMH
Summary: Crack, AU, Sandover-verse. Alternate fill for twoskeletons's prompt "Balthazar, Cas, and Rachel. Gen or shippy. Balthazar is making it very difficult to get anything done." Implied Castiel/Rachel, Balthazar/Atropos and Dean Smith/Sam Wesson.


Office Shenanigans

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: General/Humor

Summary: Crack, AU, Sandover Universe. Alternate fill for twoskeletons's prompt "Balthazar, Cas, and Rachel. Gen or shippy. Balthazar is making it very difficult to get anything done." Implied Castiel/Rachel, slight innuendo towards Balthazar/Atropos and Dean Smith/Sam Wesson.

Author's Note: GAAAAAH twoskeletons WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? YOUR TEMPTING PROMPTS HAVE LEFT ME FORCED TO FILL THEM! I HAVE OTHER STORIES TO WORK ON! MUST- FOCUS-!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.

()()

Rachel Milton heard the door open and shut, looked up, and then rolled her eyes back down to the computer screen. If she pretended he wasn't there, maybe he would disappear.

No such luck.

"Milton! How've you been, you little worker-bee?"

Rachel said nothing.

"Hello? You in there?"

Her fingers may or may not have started striking the keyboard with some extra force.

"Mil-ton," This attempt was punctuated by him sitting directly on top of the paperwork she was supposed to be transcribing. Rachel gritted her teeth.

"I'm ignoring you, Freely. You should be familiar with the practice from your nights at the bar hitting on women."

"Oh my, snippy today aren't we?"

"I get _snippy_ every time you come here and interrupt me. Don't you have work you're supposed to be doing?"

"I'm on my lunch break."

"It's ten o' clock."

"It's an early break."

"_Freely._"

"Well sue me for wanting to come down and have some conversation with my favorite secretary."

Rachel finally looked up at him, setting her palms flat on either side of the keyboard. "One: _Atropos_ is your favorite secretary. Two: I will refrain from suing you, since she already _is_ after that little incident in the lunchroom the other day."

"She never pressed charges. And for the record, I really _did_ drop my fork."

"Of course you did. And you were so starving that you had to _dive_ under the table to get it." Rachel turned back to the computer and began typing again.

"She blew it out of proportion."

"_You looked up her skirt._"

"Maybe she shouldn't wear one-inch long skirts then!" He paused. "No, she should. It would be a tragedy to cover up those legs." Rachel snorted in disgust and hit the 'PRINT' icon on the screen, standing up and moving over to the printer as it began to whir and hum. Balthazar came up behind her and managed to snatch it from the machine before she could.

Rachel shut her eyes and clenched her teeth. "_Freely_."

"What is all this? Statistics? Boring." He dropped the paper onto the desk but, as paper is wont to do, it rode the air and fell over the edge, falling beneath the desk. Rachel was on the verge of tearing her hair out. She could tolerate Balthazar Freely at any other time, but _not_ while she was working. Unlike him, she took her job _seriously_ and had no intention of getting in trouble because of his childish antics.

Unfortunately, bashing a coworker in the head with a stapler until they were writhing on the floor would probably get her fired, and so she was forced to ignore the man as she ducked beneath the desk to get the paper.

It was only when she had retrieved the paper that it occurred to her how quiet he was being, and she realized something that made her blood boil.

"Freely, if you are looking at my ass, I _swear to **God**_-"

The door to the office opened.

"Rachel, do you have the-" Castiel Novak looked into the room, saw Balthazar, and very nearly wheeled around and walked back out. Too late, though.

"Novak! How are you this fine morning?" Castiel and Balthazar were friends, but interacting with Balthazar during working hours was career-suicide; he had no idea how Balthazar had managed to maintain a job at Sandover for five years with all of the trouble he got into. "And _Rachel?_ As in, first names between you two now?" Balthazar whistled. "That's a new development."

"Balthazar."

"Almost as juicy as the one where one of the little techies said they saw you two emerging from the copy room looking a little disheveled-"

Rachel smacked her head on the desk in surprise as she came back up, slapping the paper next to the keyboard with an audible smack.

"_Which_ techie?"

"Well, I suppose he isn't that little- Wesson, the really tall one that smashed his phone with a fireplace poker the other day. Nutter. You might also know him as the one that's giving Smith head in his office every other day."

"The copier jammed," Castiel said flatly, ignoring the commentary on their boss and Sam Wesson before dropping the folder on Rachel's desk. "I was helping her un-wedge a stack of papers from it."

"Sure you were."

"You're one comment away from harassment, Freely."

"Everyone says they'll do it, but no one ever does."

"Watch me."

"Balthazar. Please don't push her."

"Oh please, at least the rumors about you two aren't half as kinky as the ones going on about Wesson and Smith."

Castiel leaned against Rachel's desk with one hand and covered his eyes with the other. Rachel crossed her arms on the desktop and laid her head down on them. There were a thousand things that they could and should have been doing at that moment, but Balthazar was never going to let them go until they'd heard their weekly dose of boss-related gossip.

"I mean, come on, he probably spends the majority of his day jacking off in his office, probably imagining Wesson on his knees or bent over the desk. Becky Rosen said she went in the other day to discuss the advertising scheme or some similar bit of crap and saw them both in Smith's office, and they were _both_ standing behind the desk. Seriously. And they looked really _alarmed_ when she came in. I know you two are probably sweet little virgins who spend your Saturday nights at home reading the Bible and polishing your purity rings and whatnot, but I think even _you_ know what people look like when you've caught them after an office-hours blow-job.

"And if they aren't doing it already they're _about_ to. Are Rosen and I really the only ones who think those two want to go at it? You obviously haven't seen them having eye-sex- or rather, eye-_quickies_ whenever they pass each other in the hall. It's disturbing on several different levels, really. If anyone should get sex-related charges brought against them it's those two, because at least I try to be _subtle._"

When he finally focused on them again, Rachel and Castiel were giving Balthazar the thousand-yard stare.

He stared at them for a moment, contemplated, and then swallowed and shut his eyes.

"Mr. Smith- How's your morning going?"

And from over his shoulder:

"I've had better."

Castiel and Rachel looked torn between being horrified and terribly amused by Balthazar's predicament. Maybe this time he _would_ get fired.

"Since you're such a fount of current office gossip," Dean Smith drawled, expression deadpanned, "Maybe you'd like to relate to me any more pieces you haven't yet mentioned in my office."

Balthazar cringed, but his voice stayed surprisingly light. "Would you like me to schedule an appointment?"

"Now would be good."

Thankfully, Smith seemed to realize that Castiel and Rachel had not been the instigators of this conversation, and nodded to them with a tight smile before motioning for Balthazar to follow him out with the jerk of a finger. The blonde did so grimly, wheeling around and almost hobbling out the door past Smith, who followed after and shut it with a click.

For a moment there was silence, Castiel and Rachel frozen in place. Slowly, Rachel set her hands down on the desk from where her fingers had been hovering over the keyboard. "Oh my. What do you think Smith's going to do to him?"

Castiel thought about that for a moment, smiled with a hint of wickedness that Balthazar would have been proud of, and then moved behind Rachel and leaned down in her ear to whisper (even though no one was around to hear him),

"I have no idea, but smart money's on the idea that it'll be a lot less pleasurable than what I did to _you_ in the copy room last week."

Rachel's cheeks went bright red, but she smiled and swatted his arm before going back to work and wondering, idly, when she might be able to make some time to 'run into him' near the copy room again.

-End

()()

…The initial idea going into this was that this was going to be a Gen fill for the prompt, but hell, it just started writing itself.


End file.
